And turning again, as if the emotions she had churned up kept her on the move, she paced back to the mantel and there stopped, staring at her own reflection in the tarnished mirror. It was denied him, for as he closed his eyes—though but for an instant—the whole scene of his former visit to the place rose before him. Clotilde’s stunning green eyes were reflected in the gazes of the tender young children, but their faces had been hollow and sunken, their hair matted, and their clothing in bad need of repair. Her little white hand stole across the table. I jumped then—I was not even shaken. That had shut him up for a while. ’ He flushed. ” Lucy said.
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